Chapter Text
MORA P.
4 TILAYA 9386
Once again, the subject and I have fallen into disagreement. Following a third small (but very successful) demonstration this week, Odo ought to be proud of the progress we have made. I know that I am. Instead, he is sullen and standoffish, maybe even more so than I have ever seen him. I have tried again and again to impress upon him the importance of these trials, but the fact of the matter is that he cannot appreciate the full scope of the situation. I try to protect him, and yet he repays me with poor cooperation and passive contempt. It may be that such disengagement on his part is easier for one of his kind to express than more “positive” humanoid emotions, but even the joys of progress appear to have little influence on his attitudes. I expect more of him.
I am ensuring his future.
MORA P.
7 BIKAYA 9386
I have made a promise I’m certain I cannot keep. While Odo continues to press me with questions of the outside world, I have done my utmost, time and again, to warn him of the horror and the dangers he would find. Even under purely hypothetical conditions where I possessed any such authority to fulfill his request, undoubtedly he would be met with fear and violence. We are only fortunate that the Cardassian government has not yet realized his full potential nor value as an asset, and I intend to keep it that way.
As a scientist, I prefer truth to softened half-truth, something I have instilled in Odo. And the truth is this: I must do as my superiors ask. Fail to do so, and I will only be replaced, my work passed onto less astute analysts. It is unlikely the subject would be given a more patient steward, let alone one invested in his own personal discovery. But Odo’s insistence has left me with little choice. He has no regard for the real powers with which I contend, nor the delicacy of our situation. We have work to do.
It will be best for him if he never leaves this laboratory.
MORA P.
17 BIKAYA 9386
Performed for the Cardassian High Command this week — a very big step. And, as luck would have it, seemingly in the right direction! Six and their wives in attendance. Guls Hadar and Kremec even approached me afterward with talk of an assignment for Odo. Speculation I’m sure, but still! It looks as though I may not have to break that promise after all!
Akahr mahal!
MORA P.
18 BIKAYA 9386
Odo has left. I caught sight of him on his way out — I called after him but he did not respond. Perhaps I should be grateful he spared me the courtesy of a brief message on the desk, but I cannot help but feel this is the show of an indignant child, needlessly berating the parent for the sake of dramatics. I have only ever done what is best for him under the circumstances. I wish he could see it! If he had only given me a few minutes to speak with him, I might have been able to convince him of his foolishness. He has no concept of what awaits. Words of warning are not enough. He has never known pain or suffering and never seen death. I fear he will find all in abundance. He claims to have outgrown the laboratory, this work; he has no appreciation whatsoever for all I have done for him over the years.
I doubt very much he won’t return within the week.
MORA P.
18 BIKAYA 9387
Odo… what has happened to you? They’ve moved me onto other projects with little concern for the loss of their specimen. I can’t decide whether this is for better or for worse. Constantly, my mind turns to the shapeshifter — where could he have gone, what must he be doing, whether any harm has come to him? He is hardly fit to integrate successfully into this society, or any. Perhaps he has simply hidden himself away from the cities and is as alone as he’s always wished. I hope that is the case. But all the same, it could have been a good life for him, here with me. Together we could have continued to work on finding his true nature.
This may be my last entry.
Soraya payal, Odo.
BAJORAN CALENDAR — 17 BIKAYA 9386
[ TERRAN CALENDAR — 11 MAY 2360 ]
THE BAJORAN RESEARCH CENTER
INSTITUTE OF SCIENCE, BAJOR
“Oh, very good , shapeshifter!” One voice cut above the others.
Odo could feel a dozen pairs of eyes turn to follow him as the room fell into a captivated hush. He lowered his head, flicked his tail. It was better to ignore it all. Instead, he watched the soft tread of his massive paws as he moved to prowl the perimeter of the room. Excited, nervous whispers exchanged between the guests. One woman stepped away as he went past, and he indulged in a low, menacing growl to remind her that she was correct to do so. The result was a tittering of delight among the group, and by the time Odo had made his single round, Doctor Mora had appeared at the entrance to the conference room. He had the ear of every Cardassian High Command member in attendance.
“Good evening, distinguished guests! Welcome to the Research Center!”
Odo thought he could hear relief in the applause. He sidled alongside Mora and let his gaze tally nine Cardassians and three Bajorans staring back at him.
“Now, I know what you’re all thinking,” the doctor beamed. “You didn’t come here tonight to be devoured by an enormous razorcat, and you’re going to hold the Institute responsible if it happens!” Odo felt the doctor’s fingers comb through the fur at the back of his neck, as planned. He sat stiffly. “But as you can see, you will all be spared.” Mora earned a few laughs in response.
And then he stepped back.
“I would like to address the shapeshifter in the room: Mister Odo. If you please?”
Odo caught sight of an amused smile in the back, a tall Cardassian with a Bajoran wife at his side. Perhaps he had been the one who had spoken when Odo had first entered.
“Odo,” a voice prompted. Odo obeyed, transforming in a spectacular swirl of amber liquid. Applause and startled wonder filled his ears — simple ears , Mora had noted the day before, but they would do, as Odo settled into his more familiar, less threatening, humanoid shape.
He bowed his unfinished face for the audience.
“Thank you, thank you!” Odo could hear the careful humility in Mora’s voice. The doctor continued, “Odo is a highly complex, morphogenic, sentient life-form. He was found several years ago in the Denorios Belt in his natural, liquid state — you caught a glimpse of that state just now. The range of his abilities is truly remarkable and we are only just beginning to understand them. For example, not only can he mimic the appearance of any other life-form, but he also reflects its respective structure down at least to the molecular level. As you will see...”
Odo’s humanoid shape began to grow narrow and long, sprouting feathers until a large, spindly-legged water bird stood in its place. The bird gave a swooping cry and spread its impressive wingspan.
“Let us not forget Odo’s capacity for vocals!” Mora chuckled and waited for the Cardassians’ approval to subside. In his hands he held a scanning device. “As you can see, he looks like a cresselian heron…” A quick scan. “...And according to these readings, he is one. Wouldn’t we all like to change our appearances as easily and as convincingly as that, from time to time?”
Odo returned to his humanoid form and observed the doctor awash in the attention. It was no secret between them that Mora often felt under-appreciated for his work. What must that be like?
Odo heard his name again.
“...Can also adopt the appearance and most functions of any non-living object, as well,” Mora was saying. “Dishware, furniture, clothing, natural materials such as metal or stone… even working scientific equipment. It takes study, practice, and diligence to produce more complex structures, but most importantly: it takes imagination. You will have noticed, for example, that an original, humanoid face continues to elude Odo’s grasp.”
Mora gestured toward the obvious. Odo kept his eyes on an interesting light fixture along the back wall. It was more difficult not to catch the whispers. He could hear the indiscreet smiles they hid behind their hands.
“What an unsettling creature.”
“Think it’s ever seen a mirror?”
“Wonder if it can do the Prefect!”
There had been a time when Odo might have taken pride, even comfort in their overt astonishment. He was different. He was incomprehensible. He was irreplaceable . He could become anything he wanted to be, and they were limited to a single shape and a single way of thinking. It was no surprise they were blinded by the sheer possibility he represented — and here he was, just at the very beginning of it all.
It had given him a kind of power over them.
But then the nuances of Cardassian expression had become more clear. It wasn’t appreciation he inspired, and it certainly wasn’t affection. It was fear. It was the fact that no matter how comparable his inner life was to theirs, no matter his emotions and intelligence and unique personality, it was only ever going to be the intrigue of his incredible abilities that made him worthwhile. To them, it was more important he could become a water pitcher than a person.
They were here to be amazed and entertained for an evening, nothing more.
And Odo was growing ill with it.
“But tonight,” Doctor Mora continued, “I am pleased to announce that we have prepared a special demonstration, something never before seen by anyone other than myself!”
Odo tensed. He couldn’t tell whether the dread or the anticipation was worse. He had been given a clear vision of the consequences for refusal or failure with such an esteemed audience.
“And this time Odo will leave nothing to the imagination. He has been practicing very diligently. We call it: the Cardassian impression! Odo?”
Time slowed down. Odo hadn’t so much as put on a pair of shoes in his entire life, and yet he felt totally stripped bare. More than anything, he wanted to sink into the floor and vanish.
He wouldn’t argue that the distinct ridgeline that ran from shoulder to jaw among Cardassians did not have its merits in terms of form or texture or the subtle way light tended to gleam off the scale; he knew it was a feature of some great cultural significance. But it had been difficult to master. And it hadn’t been by choice.
There is a sort of immediacy about feeling out each segment in front of a rapt audience.
But when the distinct arches of a Cardassian neck bloomed from Odo’s shoulders and silver scales flashed in quick succession along the ridgelines to his jaw, it was an undeniably beautiful likeness. He made a far more graceful Cardassian than he did a Bajoran.
Odo turned his head to wild applause, hoots, laughter, and, he told himself as he closed his eyes, overwhelming success. He had never felt so far from himself.
Vaguely, he could hear Doctor Mora thanking the High Command, offering refreshments and encouraging them to enjoy the socialization hour of the evening. The doctor would be present to take questions, and Odo would take endless requests for what was quickly rebranded as the Cardassian neck trick.
“Remember!” Mora chimed, giddy with accomplishment. “You can make a donation toward the Institute at any time to help fund our research, with our gratitude. And don’t forget: the razorcat is harmless!”
Odo didn’t speak a word the entire night.